"I'm myself again," she whispered. "I feel as if I have just awakened from a nightmare."

Richard pulled the red leather up across her breasts, covering her. "Me too."

"There has never been a Lord Rahl such as you before," she said in wonder, "The spirits be praised, there never has."

"Greater truth has never been spoken," a voice behind said.

Richard turned to see the tearstained faces of the other two women kneeling behind him.

"Are you all right, Berdine?" Cara asked.

Berdine, still looking a bit stunned, nodded. "I am myself again."

None of them was as stunned as Richard.

"You could have killed her," Cara said. "If you had tried to use your sword she would have had your magic, but you could have used your knife. For you, it would have been easy. You didn't have to suffer her Agiel. You could have just killed her."

Richard nodded. "I know. But that pain would have been worse,"

Berdine tossed her Agiel to the floor before him. "I give this over to you, Lord Rahl."

The other two pulled the gold chains down over their hands and dropped their Agiel to the floor along with Berdine's.

"I, too, give mine over to you, Lord Rahl," Cara said.

"And I, Lord Rahl."

Richard stared at the red rods on the floor before him. He thought about his sword, and how much he hated the things he did with it, how he hated the killing he had done with it, and the killing he knew he would do again. But he could not yet give up the sword.

"This means more to me than you can know," he said, unable to meet their eyes, "That you would do this is what matters. It proves your hearts and your bond. Forgive me, all of you, but I must ask you to keep them for now." He handed back their Agiel. "When this is over, when we are free of the threat, then we can all give up the phantoms that haunt us, but for now we must fight for those who count on us. Our weapons, terrible as they are, allow us to continue the struggle."

Cara laid a gentle hand to his shoulder. "We understand, Lord Rahl. It shall be as you say. When this is over, we can be free of not only those enemies from without, but within, too."

Richard nodded. "Until then, we must be strong. We must be the wind of death."

In the silence, Richard wondered what mriswith were doing in Aydindril. He thought about the one that had killed Cathryn. It was protecting him, it had said. Protecting him? Impossible.

As he thought about it, though, he couldn't recall a mriswith actually attacking him, personally. He remembered the first attack, outside the Confessors' Palace, with Gratch. Gratch had attacked them, and Richard had come to the aid of his friend. They had been intent of killing "green eyes," as they had call the gar, but they never specifically attacked him.

The one tonight had had the best chance of all — Richard had been without his sword — yet it didn' t attack him, and instead escaped without a fight. It had addressed him as "skin brother." Just to wonder what that could mean gave him goose bumps.

Richard idly scratched his neck.

Cara rubbed a finger on the back side of his neck where he had just scratched. "What's this?"

"I don't know. Just a spot that's always itching."

CHAPTER 30

Verna paced indignantly back and forth in the little sanctuary, How dare Prelate Annalina do this? Verna had told her that she had lo telt her the words so as to prove it was really her, to say once again that she regarded Verna as an unremarkable Sister of little note. Verna wanted the Prelate to say those cruel words again so she would know that Verna knew she was being used, and of little value to the palace, in the Prelate's eyes.

If she was going to be used, and follow the Prelate's orders like an earnest Sister was duty bound to do, it would be knowingly, this time.

Verna was done weeping. She was not going to jump whenever that woman cavalierly crooked a ringer. Verna had not devoted her entire life to being a Sister of the Light, worked so hard, for so many years, to be treated with such disrespect.

The thing that made her the most angry was that she had done it again. Verna had told the Prelate that she first had to say the words to prove it was really her, or Verna would feed the journey book to" the fire. Verna had set the rules: prove yourself first. Instead, the Prelate had crooked her finger, and Verna had jumped.

She should just throw the journey book in a fire — destroy it. Let the Prelate try to use her then. Let her see that Vema was finished with being played for a fool. See how she liked having her wishes disregarded. It would serve her right.

That was what she should have done, but she hadn't. She still had the book tucked in her bell. Despite her hurt, she was still a Sister. She had to be sure. The Prelate still hadn't proved to her that she was really alive, and had the other book. When she was sure, then Verna would throw the book in the fire.

Verna stopped pacing and looked out through one of the windows in the gable ends. The moon was up. This lime, there would be no grace if her instructions weren't followed. She vowed that either the Prelate did as requested, and prove her identity, or Verna was going to burn the book. This was the Prelate's last chance.

Verna pulled the branched candlestick away from the small altar draped with a white cloth trimmed in gold thread and set it beside the little table. The perforated bowl, in which Verna had found the journey book in the first place, set alop the white cloth on the altar. Instead of the journey book, it now held a small flame, If the Prelate failed again lo do as instructed, the journey book was going back into that bowl, into the flames.

She pulled the small black book from its pouch in her belt and set it on the little table as she pulled the three-legged stool close. Verna kissed the Prelate's ring on her ring finger, took a deep breath, said a prayer beseeching the Creator's guidance, and opened the book.

There was a message. Pages of it, in fact.

My dearest Verna, it began. Verna pursed her lips. Dearest Verna indeed.

My dearest Verna, First, the easy part. I asked you to go to the sanctuary because of the danger involved. We cannot take any chance that others will read my messages, much less discover that Nathan and I are alive. The sanctuary is the only place I could be sure no one else would read this, and that is the only reason I failed to follow your reasonable precaution before now. You, of course, should expect me to prove myself, and now that I can be sure that you are alone and safe from discovery, I will provide the proof.

In accordance with this caution of only using the sanctuary to communicate, you must be sure to erase all messages before you leave the protection of the sanctuary.

Before I go on — the proof. As you requested, this is what I told you in my office the first time I saw you after you returned from your journey to recover Richard:

"I chose you, Verna, because you were far down on the list, and because, all in all, you are quite unremarkable. I doubted you were one of them. You are a person of little note. I'm sure Grace and Elizabeth made their way to the top of the list because whoever directs the Sisters of the Dark considered them expendable. I direct the Sisters of the Light. I chose you for the same reason.

"There are Sisters who are valuable to our cause; I could not risk one of them on such a task. The boy may prove a value to us, but he is not as important as other matters at the palace. It was simply an opportunity I thought to take.

"If there had been trouble, and none of you made it back, well, I'm sure you can understand that a general would not want to lose his best troops on a low-priority mission."

Verna turned the book over on the table and put her face in her hands. There was no doubt — it was Prelate Annalina who had the other journey book. She was alive, as probably was Nathan.